Devotion

𝐦𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐬𝐞𝐚𝐬𝐨𝐧 || 𝐭𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐧𝐚𝐫𝐢

𝐬𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲: when you get injured tighnari has no one to help him when he’s in heat, at first

𝐩𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠: tighnari x gn!reader

𝐠𝐞𝐧𝐫𝐞: smut (minors + ageless blogs dni!! you’ll be blocked)

𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: mentions of being in heat/mating, masturbation, sex outdoors, handjob, oral (m!receiving), throat fucking, implied unprotected sex

𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 0.9k+

𝐓𝐈𝐆𝐇𝐍𝐀𝐑𝐈 𝐓𝐎𝐎𝐊 𝐂𝐀𝐑𝐄 𝐎𝐅 𝐄𝐕𝐄𝐑𝐘𝐎𝐍𝐄. sometimes at the expense of himself. you sometimes scolded the forest watcher for this habit but it was rare that he listened to you. this included the time you got injured while dealing with a withering zone.

luckily at the time other rangers had been with you so they were able to take you back so tighnari could tend to you. the other good news was that your wounds weren’t very serious. they would be healed with proper care but still, you were too hurt at the time to realize what time of year it was.

it just so happened that you had gotten sick around mating season. meaning that tighnari was in intense heat. normally at this time you’d give him some relief and take care of him but there was no way tighnari could ask you for help in the state you were in. so he suffered quietly.

sometimes he would be so pent up to the point where it was painful for him. naturally tighnari didn’t want you to worry so he’d finish giving you your medicine then snuck out while you were resting. with you sleeping in his bunk tighnari couldn’t satisfy himself there so he retreated to the woods.

going to a secret spot by a waterfall that only you and himself knew about, tighnari would pull out his aching cock. the only sound in the area would be water running, birds chirping, and tighnari’s breathy moans as he stroked his length. eventually he’d finish in his hand. unfortunately his balls would feel just as heavy as before. frustrated tighnari would have no choice but to clean himself in the river before returning back to you.

this routine continued until you finally got better. maybe it was because he was still concerned for you or perhaps he was embarrassed. whatever reason, tighnari hasn’t reminded you of his mating cycle. you had to find out by yourself after you followed tighnari out into the forest.

with your energy back you wanted to go for a walk with the forest watcher but he was nowhere to be found. when collei informed you that tighnari had gotten out you knew exactly where to go next. the place he always went to clear his head. it’s a good thing you went to find him too.

when you find him tighnari is struggling to cum. he doesn’t hear you approaching as he spits on his hand. his palm was starting to become too familiar. it wasn’t enough to relieve the tension anymore. poor tighnari needed more. thankfully for him you were there the oblige.

the moment you catch him you remember. initially you’re filled with guilt. the whole time he was caring for you tighnari was dealing with this on his own. the next emotion the overcomes you is annoyance with him.

startling him by appearing behind him, tighnari gasps when your hand replaces his and wraps around his girth. “you’re so stubborn” you whisper in his ear, making tighnari’s ears twitch. “you should have told me about this”.

his voice goes up an octave as tighnari responds. “you’re still recovering. i-i couldn’t trouble you” he stutters as you start flicking your wrists. fuck, your hand feels significantly better than his own. “i-i’m alright”.

“no you’re not” you retort, using your other hand to cup his balls. you’re taken aback by how much they weigh. “it hurts doesn’t it? you can be honest”.

tighnari hesitates but there’s really no denying it. his neediness overcomes his stubbornness in the end. eventually he’s nodding frantically in reply. “yes, please. h-help me through this heat. i’ll do anything”.

“you don’t have to repay me” you reassure. suddenly you let go of his cock, earning a whine from tighnari. promising that you’re not done with his, you move him to a nearby tree so he can lean against it. “you took care of me, let me take care of you” you hum, dropping to your knees.

the next thing tighnari knows you’re kissing his tip. you give his cute pink head a few kitten licks before your lips fully wrap around his cock. a hiss echoes from his mouth immediately. it’s drowned out by the waterfall to the rest of the jungle but you still hear it loud and clear. it makes you take him deep down your throat until you’re nearly choking.

your gagging rings in his pointy ears, making tighnari feel like he’s going even more wild. he holds back the feral side of him for as long as he can, letting you bob your head along his dick, but soon enough the animalistic urges take over. his mind becomes set on nothing but cumming. when his hips start to buck into your mouth there’s no stopping him.

you let him use your throat as if it’s his own personal fuck hole. how could you deny him when the moans he’s letting out are so beautifully pornographic? even with your eyes glossed over with tears you can still make out tighnari’s blushing face as he chases his orgasm.

his end approaches faster than either of you could have predicted. it’s a relief to your abused throat when his buts his load. you gulp it down like you’re dying of thirst, moaning at his salty taste. when tighnari pulls out of your mouth his breathing is erratic as he tries to collect himself.

“i-it still hurts” he confessed after a few minutes passed by. you’re not offended. it honestly doesn’t surprise you when he’s had no outlet for his uncontrollable desires. “want to take you back home” tighnari adds, fucking himself back into his pants before scooping you up. “need to fuck you properly. 𝐌𝐀𝐘𝐁𝐄 𝐓𝐇𝐄𝐍 𝐓𝐇𝐈𝐒 𝐇𝐄𝐀𝐓 𝐖𝐈𝐋𝐋 𝐒𝐔𝐁𝐒𝐈𝐃𝐄”.

2022 © httphaitani — do not repost or translate my work. likes, reblogs, and comments are welcome

I’m thinking about Albedo, wanting to run a test on you. He wants to make you addicted to him.

Whenever you’re with him, he laces your food. first, with a highly addictive substance, then with an aphrodisiac. your first visit on the side of dragonspine was fairly uneventful, but he could tell you were flustered as you left. he revels in it, wondering if you could even make it down the side of the mountain before your hand was down your pants. or maybe you did make it all the way back home, all pent up and hazy from the drugs, rubbing your little pussy against a pillow like a bitch in heat.

and you come back, and you feel the same feelings. this time, though.. you’re a little less adept at hiding it. he’s made you cum at least six times by the end of the night, and you pass out there. of course, your breakfast the next morning is laced too, and he gets to watch you blush and shake and try to hide it and fail miserably all over again. how exciting.

and eventually it works, you turn up at his shelter more and more often, all but begging for his cock even without the drugs. he successfully got you addicted to his dick, and he’s gonna use it to his advantage.

content warning: noncon, aphrodisiac drug use, mindbreak, masturbation (f), creampie. dark content! anti dc & -17 dni + nsfw under the cut.

ANONNNN big brain i love u for this kiss kiss

It’s the type of feeling that crept up on you almost instantly, lathering your inner thighs with slicks and clouds up your mind with lewd thoughts. All you could think is going anywhere as long as you’re alone, as long as you can hurry your dainty fingers down your panties and twiddle your wet cunt with your hand cupping your mouth to muffle your whines. it’s weird how you’re always like this around Albedo, knees growing weaker, cheeks heating up and by the time you realized, you’re rubbing your thighs together to ease the ache between your legs as he speaks.

It’s truly immoral coming from you, but even you can barely hold yourself together right now to think straight. Every subtle touch from him elicits a whine out of you which leads to you quickly excusing yourself without caring about the brutal cold. Not like it could compare with the way your body heats up right now, you just hope and wish to Barbatos that Albedo doesn’t hear you.

Guilt came to play with your heart when you started touching yourself to him, your fingers pumping inside of you, pussy squelching as Albedo’s face flashes across your mind. Embarrassed come next when you showed up at his shelter with a much more disarrayed appearance, begging for him to help you out from this weird situation you found yourself stuck with.

It’s a shame that your vision is too blurry from all the tears if not you could’ve pieced it together— why every time you consumed everything from him your body acts up, why even a spoonful of his food sent this feeling jolting in your body. But at least somebody prefers it that way, Albedo would rather you not know of it. Besides, why would you want to, right?

You’re happy here with him, constantly fucked out of your mind. If his nose isn’t buried in books then it would be buried in you, tongue lapping your wet cunt as the bridge of his nose rub against your puffy clit. And when he’s frustrated with his experiment, he’ll just let it out on you, pushing your soaked panties before shoving his cock inside of you. Not that you mind, all you know is throw your head back and worship his cock, tight pretty cunt clamped down his cock every time you cum all over his lap.

He doesn’t even need to laced your food again.

[ OCT 24 ] HEAT | gorou

pairing: gorou x fem!reader

warnings: nsfw, slight omegaverse?? like v slight, breeding, service top!gorou, you play with gorou’s ears a lot lol, knotting, gorou in heat

notes: i had this idea after THAT audio clip was released

“i never knew your ears were so sensitive, general.” gorou wanted to despise the bright, curious little glint in your eyes as your fingers continued to ravish his flushed ears. he could hardly protest, partially because he didn’t want to, but also because every attempt at one he made was in vain as it melted into an obscene cry.

“please forgive me for prodding so openly. i know i’m not one to get distracted but…” it was ironic how you couldn’t even muster the rest of your thought, utterly indulging in gorou’s lewd responses.

kazuha was right. i need to help him.

Keep reading

you're too good to be true ღ 彡 !

★ — what are the genshin guys' favourite positions?

★ — starring : itto , kazuha , albedo , kaeya .

★ — contains : gn afab reader / individual warnings on each section . minors dni.

༉‧₊˚. ARATAKI ITTO

cws : praise, pussydrunk itto, dumbfucking, getting caught.

it’s no lie that itto is massive. his cock will be struggle to take every single time, and you’ll be reduced to nothing but dumb little babbles when he’s through with you. typically he’ll lay you back against the pillows and prep you, often making you cum on his tongue and fingers a couple of times in order to keep you relaxed. itto might not be the most ingenious man in inazuma, but he was a quick learner when it came to your body and precisely how much you could take.

his favourite position is without a doubt the full nelson. he adores folding you in half as you lay on his broad chest, holding your legs back with his extraordinary strength. itto will coax you into it so gently, promising to take the very best care of his darling, yet as soon as the tip of his thick length is dipping into your warm hole, he’s harnessing every single ounce of his self control in order to prevent him from going feral and fucking your cunt like it was nothing more than a fleshlight.

that being said, itto is most certainly aware that he has the power to break you. he works you up slowly, always praising you as he grows more and more drunk on your pussy. the oni growls into your ear as he thrusts up into you, loudly enough that anybody within a short vicinity of the room will hear. (one time one of the gang members made the mistake of coming in to check on their boss, and they were greeted by the sight of your legs pulled back and cunt fully exposed while the boss continued to fuck you just as viciously as he had when the two of you were alone.)

༉‧₊˚. KAEDEHARA KAZUHA

cw : oral , pussydrunk kazuha.

kazuha is a sweetheart. he gets off on making you feel good, though he certainly isn’t one to deny the feeling of your plump lips wrapped around his shaft. this is why his favourite intimate moments with you are when your both in the 69 position. he truly lives up to his vocation as a poet with the way that his tongue works wonders, beginning with slow, teasing licks to your inner thighs before finally reaching your cunt. every movement with him is purposeful, as the man knows exactly how to get you trembling under his touch (because of this, he’ll usually lay you down on the bed and hover over the top of you).

to be honest, kazuha doesn’t really care that much about whether or not you’re sucking him off. he’s content focusing on eating you out more than anything, though you’ve discovered that if you start lapping up the glistening beads of precum from the tip of his cock, he’ll softly moan into your pussy. the vibrations are absolutely heavenly.

kazuha takes his time with you, kitten licking your clit gently, placing the tiniest of kisses to the swollen bud before truly going for it. your begging amused him, though he won’t tease you to the point that those frustrated tears start welling in your eyes. he’ll spread your labia apart with one hand to give him the best access as his tongue slips into your drooling cunt, eager to taste your sweet essence all over his mouth.

༉‧₊˚. ALBEDO KREIDEPRINZ

cws : none .

albedo might be your textbook experimentalist in the bedroom, but the one thing he really enjoys is seeing your face and etching each expression into his memory. that’s why missionary is his favourite position through and through - he loves watching your face contort in that lustful concoction of pain and pleasure when he first pushes his cock into you.

one thing that the alchemist will do every time without fail is put a pillow under your hips. he finds that it first of all gives a better angle when he inserts his middle and ring finger into your pussy, tenderly stretching you open in preparation to take him. the trick came from a drunken kaeya who was babbling on about his recent sexual endeavours, and told his friend that not only can putting something under his lover’s back should make it easier for him to reach deeper inside of you, but also make things feel more intense for them. the cavalry captain had even gone as far as to show albedo some of the scratches left on his upper arms that had been left on his tanned skin a few nights prior.

now, albedo couldn’t live without it. he had grown obsessed with mentally noting how your body responded to different speeds and angles. he would always slide his hand in between your entangled forms, locating your clit and pushing you even closer to the edge. the man felt his heart swell as he remembered that he was the one making you feel so good.

every once in a while you’d fall asleep rather quickly after sex, and albedo would take the opportunity to pull out a pencil and a small notebook that he kept hidden in his bedside table and would sketch a couple of rough images of your face while he fucked you - it was his dirty secret.

furthermore, another reasons that albedo adores this position is because of how your walls never failed to flutter around him a little bit more every time you heard his whimpers and groans. he’s not exactly the loudest in the bedroom, but being in such close proximity to you meant that you could hear every little noise that escaped that starred throat of his.

༉‧₊˚. KAEYA ALBERICH

cws : spanking , mention of brat taming , praise / degradation , public sex .

though he’s in love with all of you, one thing that kaeya treasures is your ass. no matter the size, he adores watching it as you struggle to sink down on his long cock. that’s why doggy style is his favourite position.

the man is absolutely transfixed on your ass as it jiggles in response to his thrusts, and will even shift his speed in order to suit his fancy. if you’re being bratty or find it amusing to talk back to him, kaeya won’t hesitate to spank your ass a couple of times. hell, he’s so in love with it that every now and then he’ll make up minor infractions that could possibly count as you disobeying him just so that he can slap it a few times.

one thing that makes this position extra appealing to kaeya is the fact that at any moment, he can lean down and whisper in your ear. he’s a big fan of mixing praise and degradation together, so he won’t hesitate to bend down and ghost his lips over the shell of your ear, telling you how wonderfully your slutty hole sucked him in and how filthy you were for clenching around him whenever he spanked you.

kaeya gets hard pretty easily, so when you began to make it a habit of stopping by his office during the day for a spontaneous visit, it slowly started turning into him bending you over his desk and taking you from behind. it doesn’t come close to how badly he could ruin you when you were in the privacy of your own room, but regardless, you had to walk out of the knight’s headquarters with kaeya’s cum dribbling out of your cunt.

Pacing Game [Yandere Scaramouche x Reader]

Title: Pacing Game [Yandere Scaramouche x Reader]

Synopsis: You’re due to give birth any day now, and you’ve never been so terrified. 

Word Count: 2524

Notes: Yandere, arranged marriage, pregnant afab reader, mentions of physical roughness, non-graphic childbirth descriptions

Your husband, the great and feared Sixth Harbringer, has never been terribly affectionate. As if that would surprise anyone, not that you have anyone you could tell this to; perhaps the gaggle of prim attendants who are frequently at your side, but no–they’re his crows, little spies that will flutter to this side the moment you say anything worth repeating.

It’s the truth, however. He’s never been one to plant soft kisses on your forehead in the morning or wax on about how the beauty of the most stunning blossoms were nothing compared to your smile. He has never told you he loves you, though you’re certain that he wants you–bruised wrists and bruised lips and your currently swollen belly can attest to that.

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Hi! I heard that you’re taking in requests! May I ask for a reader who was kidnapped by scaramouche? She was socially isolated to the point stolkholm syndrome kicks in for reader? 🚶🏼‍♀️

summary. socially isolated darling who develops stolkholm syndrome for scaramouche

warnings. general yandere themes, stockholm syndrome, social isolation, breif descriptions of injury, emotional manipulattion/abuse, scara calls you a slut once.

you had been so stupid. so naive to think that scaramouche wouldn't find out about your little fling with one of the fatui lackeys that worked for him. it was risky to even allow feelings to fester for another person, but someone who worked for scaramouche? that was just dangerous. you should've known better.

but, honestly, it couldn't have been helped. he was the one sent to your room after punishments that left you needing medical attention. he was so soft and caring when wrapping bandages around you or applying ointment to heal electrical burns. he talked to you gently and made sure you were okay. he was there for you in a time of need, and you were able to find comfort and safety in him. it was inevitable that feelings would form between the two of you.

it was an accident that scaramouche found out. you don't really know exactly what happened, but you do know that he found out by overhearing his lackeys teasing you're secret lover about his crush on you.

scaramouche was livid. he came into your room, grabbing you roughly and dragging you out. you were scared as you fumbled to keep up with his fast paced steps, but you didn't struggle against him or say anything. you didn't know where you were going until he tossed you onto the hard, cold ground of a cell.

"if you want to be a slut so baddly, then i'll just have to fucking keep you locked up where you'll never see anyone but me ever again." he told you before slamming the door and leaving you there all alone.

you thought he would let you out eventually, but it's been two months since then. it was okay at first, you actually even enjoyed the silence and alone time. but after a while it scared you. you didn't like being alone anymore, and it didn't help that the cell he kept you in was dark and cold, which only made you feel more scared and alone.

right now you were laying in bed, clutching tightly onto the sheets that you held over your head. it had been at least an hour since you've been trying to fall asleep, but no matter how hard you tried, you just couldn't. you felt like you were going to throw up because of how tired you felt. you were so miserable.

you breath hitched when you suddenly heard the door to your cell creak open, an uncomfortable feeling settling in your stomach when the eerie noise filled your ears. you didn't move, or say anything, just simply layed there, waiting for what would happen.

sometimes he'd come down here to drop off food and the he'd leave, other times he would linger to berate you in some way. you didn't like how cold he was towards you during your time down here, it made you feel so small and helpless, and it just reminded you how badly of a situation you got yourself into — how badly you fucked up.

"y/n." he called, voice cold and emotionless. you didn't answer, merely pulling the sheet tighter around your form. he took that as an opportunity to continue, though.

"you want out, don't you?" you shifted, lifting the sheet only enough to see him standing a little ways from the bed, but you remained quiet. you watched as he walked to where a chair was in the cell and he sat down, leaning back and crossing his arms against his chest. he then looked at you, making you pull the sheet back down to cover yourself.

"just admit that i'm all you need, all that you want, and you can come out." he said, amused.

you held your breath as you contemplate his words, unsure of what to do. you're afraid of admitting he's right — because he is, you do need him, you depend on him, really, but you don't know how to feel about that yet and it scares you to think about it. but then again, you hate it down here, you hate it so much it makes you want to cry just thinking about staying here any longer.

scaramouche takes your long silence as refusal, because before you can muster up something to say, he begins to leave. clicking his tongue, he mutters a 'fine' as he stands from the chair and starts walks towards your cell door.

"wait." you whispered meekly, just barely loud enough for him to hear. "pl—lease... don't leave me here al—lone again."

you couldn't look at him, too ashamed that you finally succumbed to him. but you were so scared, you didn't like being alone and he was here, with you, willing to comfort you and finally let you out of this suffocating cell. you didn't really have a choice but to accept that he really is all that you have or you'd be left down here alone again.

when you think about it, he's really not all that bad. it's just when you upset him that things get scary for you. otherwise he cares about you, makes sure you're okay and well, and he can also be sweet. he'll gently kiss you, call you sweet little nicknames and simply hold you tightly in his arms. he's attractive too, you cannot deny that.

you don't have to keep resisting him, you think. it's pointless and only ends in painful punishments that make you end up regretting you ever defied him. it's okay to give in to him and accept that you're his, you tell yourself reassuringly.

"oh?" he sounded mockingly, turning around to look at your pathetic form that was shivering under the thin sheet. "finally come to our senses, have we?" you flick your eye up to look at him momentarily, and he's smirking down at you like he'd finally won — which technically, he has.

you quickly look away, nodding your head ever so slightly. "please." you hesitate for a moment, tears welling in your eyes as you swallow thickly. "I–I need yo–you."

you don't hear him say anything after that, only the creaking of your cell door closing. you don't look up to see if he left, you just assume that he did.

a whimper escapes your quivering lips and you grip tightly onto the sheets of the matress where you lay. too busy wrapped in the fear of being alone, you don't notice light footsteps walking towards you.

you flinch when a calloused hand touches your cheek, the gentle stroke of a thumb lulling you back into comfort. you look up and see scaramouche sitting crouched in front of you, a soft, barely there smile displayed on his lips.

"shh, sweetheart. there's no need to cry, i'm right here."

Title: Clear As Porcelain.

Pairing: Yandere!Scaramouche x Reader (Genshin).

Word Count: 2.4k.

TW: Kidnapping, Mentions of Death/Injury, and Slight Dehumanization.

You heard Scaramouche’s laugh before you ever saw his face.

It might've been more like a cackle, actually – the noise so uneven and so cracked, you mistook it for the screeching of a wild animal, assumed a frightened boar or a very distressed bird had wandered into your storefront and would find its way out again, after it calmed down. You only thought to look up from the ceramic figurine you were painting (a commissioned piece of the Shogun in all of her awe-inspiring, ethereal grace) when you heard the door to your workshop crash open and hit the opposing wall with enough force to shake the contents of a shelf hanging nearby. He was standing there, disheveled, grinning, his clothes soaked and his eyes wild, and he was mumbling – to himself, at first, and then loudly, his voice spiking as his tone dipped into something sharp and erratic. “That bitch, she could’ve—She tried to take my fucking arm off. I’ll fucking kill her. I’ll choke her to death with her own fucking tail—”

“Sir,” You cut him off, turning to face him. His hair was partially seared, too, despite the fact that he looked like he’d just crawled out of the ocean. Faintly, you could smell traces of smoke and ozone, but you were more preoccupied by the puddle he was going to leave on your floor than whatever mess he'd clearly gotten himself into before barging into your shop. “We’ve already closed for the night. If you want to place an order, you can—”

“Shut the fuck up.” He was already limping forward, already shoving armloads of supplies and half-finished projects out of his way as he pulled himself onto your worktable. He stopped at the figurine, his grin faltering for a fraction of a second, but that was on the floor too soon enough. You heard something crack, but your attention was pulled away before you could evaluate the damage, back to Scaramouche, now lying on the wooden tabletop, pulling his tattering sleeve up to his shoulder. “Fix it. I don’t care how. I’ll pay you when you’re done, just make sure it looks like the rest.”

You opened your mouth, but closed it again just as quickly. The injury was on his bicep, if you could really call it an injury at all. It was more like… shattered porcelain, what should’ve been torn, bloodied skin replaced with ragged cracks and chipped paint. Some portions were missing entirely, giving way to black void. There was no blood, or muscle, or fat. There was nothing, save for the interior shell of his arm on the other side.

He was as hollow as a doll.

Huh.

You reached over him, to the other side of your table, grabbing the container of resin he’d nearly overturned. The hardener was already in your pocket, and you could mix your paint later on, while the plaster dried. You had a feeling he wouldn’t think to question it, if you took your time. “Please, try to hold still. I’ll be gentle.”

He didn’t. Honestly, you doubted he’d even heard you, too preoccupied with his own manic, meaningless rambling. You were able to convince him to lay down, to let you work on his bicep without having to worry that you’d leave him stuck to your table with a thin layer of white cement. You were able to lay the resin, and as you sanded down the excess, his ranting came back into earshot, his words once again beginning to form coherent thoughts, more or less. “She tried to kill me.I don't know why. She’d already killed, I don’t fucking know—” He brought up his free hand, gesturing vaguely. “—all of my men. I don’t know what she wants. What could she even do to me that her and her fucking girlfriend haven’t already done?”

The rest of his arm was porcelain, too. Disguised porcelain, sure, clearly meant to mimic flesh and bone, but you recognized good craftsmanship, the little methods and techniques employed to trick the eye and present dead clay as something else, something with more life inside of it. You wondered, briefly, if it was a prosthetic, but it would’ve had to start somewhere closer to his collarbone than his shoulder, and you could see his fingers twitching as you smoothed over rough mortar, as you did your best to make the patch indistinguishable from what you could see of his undamaged skin. If you could call it ‘skin’.

Suddenly, Scaramouche fell silent. After a moment, you realized he wanted a response. You hesitated, but forced yourself to say something, if only so you could focus on the task at-hand. “Does this kind of thing happen often?”

“She’s always wanted me dead.” You pushed your chair back. You’d been painting when he came in, but what little you’d had on your palette had long-since dried and cracked, and the rest of your supplies were in a cabinet hung on the far wall. You could feel his eyes boring into you as you searched for what you’d need. When you glanced over your shoulder, he didn’t bother trying to look away. “I don’t know what she has against me. I’ve never done anything to her, or that tyrant.”

“Some people just choose to be cruel, like that. There isn’t always a reason for it.”

His voice was quieter, now, slower. He let his head roll back, his attention falling to the ceiling. “People say I’m cruel.”

“You don't seem very cruel to me.”

He didn’t answer. By the time you found your way back to him, his eyes were closed, and he didn’t wake up until long after the sun rose the next morning.

~

A week after he left, a man in a uniform came to your door and announced that he’d been ordered to escort you to the estate of his master, the Balladeer, Honorable Lord Scaramouche. When you asked why you were being summoned, he told you to bring your tools, and you asked no other questions.

He received you in his parlor, a large room made just a little smaller by the painted screens that lined every wall, made just a little more oppressive by the fact that it was empty of all but you, Scaramouche, a low chabudai, and the tea tray that sat on top of it. You sat across from him, tucking your legs underneath you and keeping your tool kit at your side. No sooner than you'd settled into place, Scaramouche nodded, and the soldier took his leave, bowing and closing the door behind him.

He started, predictably. There was no greeting, but you hadn’t expected one, not really. Not from him. “I trust you've realized that our last transaction will have to stay between us.” Formal words, made to cut precisely and leave no room for error or argument, so unlike his manic rambling from the week before. It didn’t suit him, as a costume of fine lace and silk wouldn’t suit a child’s mangled toy. “It would be… inconvenient, for me and the organization I represent, if the Shogunate was forced to waste their time and look into our actions. I’m sure an investigation would be an issue for your business, as well, and make it difficult for us to reimburse you for the services you’ve already provided.” He paused, leaning onto the chabudai. “Wouldn't you agree?”

You didn’t hesitate, this time. “A client asked me to repair something very important to him. I don’t see why the Shogunate has to know anything else.”

There were no visible signs of approval, no hum or nod of his head. He closed his eyes, instead, and brought a hand up to the collar of his nagagi, toying with the fabric as he spoke. “And if this client asked you to make another repair, would you accept the job with the same discretion?”

A few minutes later, Scaramouche's nagagi was pooled around his waist and you were kneeling behind him, mixing your plaster as you looked over the array of lesions scattered across his back. They weren’t scars, exactly, and you didn’t want to call them open wounds. If anything, they were more similar to scrapes, deep scratches in his porcelain that darkened and cracked at the edges, forming a sprawling web of hairline fractures. It was a wonder he was still in one piece, honestly. It seemed like a strong gust of wind would be enough to shatter him.

It was a momentary impulse, as fleeting as it was self-serving, but before you could swallow it down, you ran your hand over his back, tracing over a cut that ran parallel to his spine. He tensed, glanced towards you, and you offered an apologetic smile. “I’m sorry, I’ve just never seen something so…”

“Bizarre?” The suggestion was accompanied by a bark of laughter, a wild grin. “You nation has dancing tanuki and wandering spirits. You can’t tell me that I’m the only oddity you’ve ever run into.”

“Well-crafted,” You mumbled, already distracted. He was more awake than he had been last time you’d worked on him, more aware, and he shuddered as you spread the plaster over the uppermost lesion, curling into himself before he could correct his posture. “Oh, does that hurt?”

That wasn’t really what you meant, but Scaramouche didn’t give you a chance to correct yourself. “It’d hurt more to let my body cave in on itself, if that’s what you’re worried about.”

“I could use a different technique.” If the rest of his body was like his arm, he probably didn’t have a rib cage, or shoulder-blades, or anything you had to be wary of or avoid. Still, you tried to work around what might affect his mobility, and when it came time to cut away the excess, you worked quickly, unsure if he could feel what hadn’t already set. “Or, we could bring in a healer. They couldn’t use pyro or hydro, but—”

“That’s not an option.” He didn’t even give you a chance to finish, straightening his back and squaring his shoulders – nearly causing you to chip away a piece of his side, in the process. “This is going to stay between us. No one else has to know. It would be—” He cut himself off with an airy sigh, as shallow as it was exhausted. “I don’t need my subordinates spreading rumors about my ball-joints. You’re not to breathe a word of this to anyone, from the Shogunate or otherwise.”

You were quiet, for a moment.

Then, you leaned against him, resting one hand on the dip of his shoulder while the other fell to the small of his back, your fingertips pushing absentminded patterns into his cool skin. “For such an important client?”

He grit his teeth as you started, but didn’t make a sound.

“Consider it our secret.”

~

Six months and a dozen appointments later, you woke up on a bed, in the cabin of a ship, your wrists bound behind your back and a bruise beginning to form on your cheek from where his soldier had struck you before driving a needle into the side of your neck.

He was sitting on the edge of the mattress, gaze cast downward. When you began to stir, he , a small smile tugging at the corner of his mouth as he looked over your bound form. If there was any part of him you didn’t care for, it would’ve had to be his eyes. They lacked something, a certain light that should’ve been there if he’d been made of something else, if he’d been just a little more alive. You doubted you could’ve done any better, but that didn’t mean you had to praise his lifeless stare.

“It was a new recruit. I’ll have his fingers broken when we dock – or if he’s foolish enough to show his face to me before then, the next time I see him.” For a second, you wondered what he was talking about, but his hand came up, cupping your injured cheek, and your confusion was quickly replaced with hollow irritation, traces of dampened panic. “I didn’t tell him not to hit you, but archons, you’d think one of these imbeciles would be able to think for themselves. If anyone on this ship so much as looks at you, tell me. The last thing I need to deal with is idiots as disobedient as they are stupid.”

“I don’t—” You tried to sit up, only to fall back onto your side immediately. Your vision blurred, spun, and your body felt weak, as if your blood had been drained from your veins and replaced with solid lead. He laughed as you clenched your eyes shut and shrunk into yourself, as you tried to get the world around you to stop moving, if only for long enough to let you catch your breath. “Scaramouche, I—”

“Kunikuzushi.” A slightly tightened grip, his thumb tracing over your cheekbone in a gesture that you could nearly call tender. “Say it for me.”

“Kunikuzushi…” Your voice was quiet, weak. You felt weak. You probably looked weak, too, but he didn’t seem to care. “Wha—What’s going on? I can’t—”  

He was grinning, now, the expression eager and unabashed. “It’s nothing you’ll have to worry about. Her Excellency has called me back to Snezhnaya, and I thought it would be wise to keep my dollmaker in the same country as myself.” A blade was produced from his belt, or a nearby dresser, or some other forsaken place, and the rope circled around your wrist was cut with no great amount of thought or ceremony. You were dragged into his lap with just as little ease, your head soon resting on his thighs and his fingers soon skirting over your neck, your shoulder. His hands were so cold, as if he’d never known an ounce of warmth in his life. As if he’d never bothered to make himself into anything more than damp clay. “I’ve already taken care of your store. You can thank me later on, when we go over what could and what couldn’t be salvaged from the fire.”

You took a long moment to remember how to use your tongue, how to speak with any confidence. Even after that, it still came out so quietly, you had to question if he heard you at all. “And if I don’t want to go with you?”

A light chuckle, in response, the noise wistful and idle and awful. “You will,” He said, the promise as hollow as he was.

“Soon enough, you'll only ever want to be by my side.”

NOOOOO I'M TAKING HIM WITH ME I'M TAKING HIM WITH ME OR I'M STAYING

Aether and Lumine can drag their asses back to Tevyat if they wanna see their older sib again because I'm staying with Wanderer 😭 give that puppet a tiny kiss

(from this and this!) the fact you chose him out of your own siblings—him, the discarded puppet who was never enough. you could have chosen to stay for one of the archons, for the people and the gods you’ve helped. hell, even one of the multitude of friends you’ve made in your travels across teyvat, but the fact that you chose him? he doesn’t quite believe it, ears ringing and heart stuttering as he asks you if you could repeat what you said. and you smile indulgently, ever so soft, ever so sweet, ever so you that he can’t help himself from falling all over again when you say, “of course i’m not leaving, silly. i promised i’d stay, didn’t i?”

he stumbles, nearly trips on his own feet as he rushes to throw himself at you, burying his face in your shoulder as he cries in relief. and you hold him, unbothered by the wetness gathering in your clothes, strong arms secured around him—real, just like the fact that you’re staying with him. staying for him.

and oh, he realizes, welcoming the warmth in his chest, this is what it means to love someone.

idk if I turned on anon so please use this request and delete the other one thank you

but yeah same anon who requested pt2, idm a continuation but I had more boys in mind initially :)

“You Called, Master?” (pt. 2)

part one / part one (cont.)

characters: baizhu, itto, thoma, xiao, zhongli

summary: maid!reader walks in on their master getting off.

genre: smut

warnings: afab!reader (no pronouns); pet names (love, dear/est, darling, babe), unprotected, minor breeding (xiao), master-maid dynamic; not proofread!!

note: apologies for the long wait!! i’ve been dealing with some mental and physical health issues these past few months, so i’m just now working on a bunch of requests! oh, and congrats to itto for getting his own section <3

your master was… eccentric, to say the least. you weren’t quite sure how he could afford to pay you, considering you rarely ever saw him taking on work. despite his repeated lateness in providing a paycheck, your master as a kind and lively man - he treated you more as an old friend than a servant. you were finishing up the last of your daily chores when you heard your master gasp in his room. believing him to be injured, you rushed inside, only to find your master sprawled out atop his bed with his dick in his hand.

— itto was in shambles, letting out low groans and sighs as his nails left crescent-shaped marks in your skin. he held your thighs in an iron grip as he fucked himself stupid between them, so selfishly refusing to bury himself inside you despite your whines and begs for him to do so. “not yet… don’ wanna spoil all the fun, right?” your master chuckled between labored breaths, your only respite being the sensation of his cock sliding against your pussy lips. you sobbed, “master, please” and the oni felt his resolve growing weak. “alright-alright babe…” he hushed you, spreading your thighs as he repositioned. “i’ll give you what you want, huh? just don’t come cryin’ to me when it’s too much…” he punctuated his warning with a snap of his hips, bottoming out in a single thrust. your master uttered string of low curses at the sheer tightness, even as you begged for more still. one shallow thrust was all it took for him to fall apart. “okay-okay– jus’ lemme know if i’m too rough. wouldn’t want to break you so soon…”

this was so inappropriate, he was well aware - you didn’t even belong to him. you were employed by another, a master who had no interest in taking you for themselves. he fantasized about you being his, calling him your master and surrendering yourself to him fully. what would you look like on your knees for him? smiling so sweetly, taking his cock between your lips and sucking him off like a good little maid? he didn’t realize that he let out a low groan of your name until he heard a gasp from the doorway.

— thoma was so sweet, so slow while sliding into your slick folds, sighing when he finally bottomed out. “you– hahh– you feel amazing…” he whined after the first thrust, his head spinning and cock twitching inside you. “so good… for your master, huh?” his voice cracked - it hadn’t even been a minute, and he was already broken. with your skirt bunched up and balled in his fists, he tried to control his growing urge to pound you into the futon. but, when you moaned “master thoma” oh so prettily… he inhaled slowly and mumbled a quick apology before pulling out and slamming back in balls deep. “never felt this good…” the room was filled with the lewd noise of skin against skin as he fucked all of his fantasies into you, caring little for the other servants who might hear. what were they going to do, remove the kamisato clan’s finest retainer for claiming what was his? thoma couldn’t recall the last time he felt so possessive. “gonna cum? please, please cum on my dick! c’mon, love, i want it so bad…”

— xiao didn’t know how to react when you laid yourself out for him. you, his pretty little mortal, all on display… he wasn’t gentle with his first thrust, his mind too preoccupied with thoughts of filling your cunt over and over again. “fuck– i should be your master, i should be the one takin’ care of you…” he had an iron grip on the sheets as he pounded into you relentlessly, savoring every moan and sob of his name that left your lips. “say you’re mine, mortal… say you belong to me…” he burrowed his face in the crook of your neck and groaned, rutting into you so forcefully that the headboard hit the wall every other thrust. xiao couldn’t get enough, he felt drunk every time your pussy sucked him back in. you thanked the divine that wangshu inn was in such a remote location; if there were any guests tonight, their slumbers would surely be disturbed by the adeptus staking his claim on you. “you better not have an early morning tomorrow, ‘cause i don’t plan on letting you rest until the sun is up…”

your master was always such a gentleman. never asking too much of you, never talking to you unkindly, always offering you fresh tea during your breaks… yes, you were very thankful to be employed by such a kind man. one can imagine your surprise when you entered his home office, expecting to see your master hard at work as per usual. instead, you were greeted with the sight of your master, with his head tilted back against his office chair and mouth agape as he sighed while stroking himself.

— zhongli was a traditional man in everything but payment - all of your paychecks were signed by his boss or a mysterious “friend.” you had to admit, there was nothing traditional about the way he held your head, his slender fingers using your hair to force you up and down his shaft. “apologies, dearest–” he groaned, the sound coming from somewhere deep in his chest. “i’ll make sure that you are compensated handsomely for this…” your master’s hips stuttered, a raspy sigh spilling from his lips. you soon learned that your “compensation” was sitting in your master’s lap with his cock stuffed impossibly deep, making you squirm and bite your lip to muffle the obscene noises you let out every time you dropped your hips. “there you go, ah– good, just like that…” his gloved hands dug into the flesh of your ass as he helped you lift yourself up, your legs already thoroughly spent due to your master’s demand that you cum twice for every time he does. “you’ve done so well for me, dear… i believe a raise will be in order after tonight.”

— baizhu was gentle as he pushed down against your shoulders, his eyes unmoving as you lowered to your knees. he was always kind, always attentive to your needs as you are to his. but, right now, your master was focused on chasing his own high rather than attending to you. “good, good… you’re doing so well, darling…” he cooed as you sucked him off, with one hand tangled in your hair and the other wiping away the drool at the side of your mouth. the slide of your warm tongue against his shaft was all it took for your master’s hips to buck up from his chair and a stuttering gasp to leave his parted lips. “oh– someone’s a fast learner, hm?” he let out a breathless chuckle and affectionately carded his fingers through your hair once more. “now, now… let’s take this slow,” his gentle grip tightened as he guided your head at a far more languid pace, drawing out his own orgasm - and by extension, yours. you let out a pathetic moan around his cock, a beg for him to pick up the pace. “we have all day to play, darling… no need to rush.”

taglist: @stygianoir , @plasmasimagination , @minimoniac

Ummmm if requests are open can I request yan!ayato x f!reader. Reader discovered she's pregnant after being forced into a marriage by ayato, and decides to plan an escape?

tw: fem reader / pregnancy / yandere / controlling behaviour / mentions of drugging / physical imprisonment

i am 50 years late, but some thoughts:

ayato smiling more than usual when he finds out the news from the healer—and of course, this healer is loyal to him too, a woman that's a part of his shuumatsuban operatives. so he finds out immediately. of course he does. he wraps his arms around you and murmurs that it's amazing, how much happiness you give him (as if you'd ever, willingly, given him anything.)

ayato is a family man. he cherishes the idea of family, always protects and chases after the concept, on account of his father and mother passing away early. the entire household finds out the news, ayaka first, and she's so enamoured by the thought of having a niece/nephew, always asking after your needs or wants, glancing at your stomach.

you always demur when ayaka asks how you feel, never admitting how it itches at you sometimes, knowing that the child in you belly is of his seed. but it's also yours too. a proof of your survival, that despite ayato having stolen you away from you family (though stolen is perhaps not the right word—bargained, perhaps), you're still alive, if not thriving then at least surviving. you're capable of life, even in the most desolate of places, trapped in a gilded cage of silk and yumemiru.

you dream of the child sometimes, in your arms after birth, peaceful dreams when it resembles your father or mother or you, nightmares when you catch blue tufts of hair and pale violet eyes. you wake up in cold sweat, touching a hand to your stomach, where the bump has begun to portrude, and feel the urge to throw up. ayato is always around you immediately, asking the servant to fetch water, and then murmurs of how he'll protect you, that you won't go the way of his mother and father, because he has that power now.

you heart shrivels whenever he touches you, whenever he makes these vows, resentment beginning to splinter what's left of your ability to feel tenderness.

no. you refuse to let ayato influence your love for your child. if it looks like ayato, you will still love them. but you can't do that if you're forever in the embrace of this man who makes your gums ache, your joints creak, as if you'd already aged a hundred years. in the kamisato estate, love cannot flower at all, so you plan your escape.

it's not easy. you never have privacy to ask for anything, let alone something as risky as passage off of inazuma. but you grit your teeth and forcibly make the opportunity, stray touches here and there, sultry eyes to let him know you're receptive to his touches, and you change. you no longer flinch and act so hateful toward him in private. lowering his guard like this, bit by bit, until he gives you have slivers of freedom that you gulp down like a man dying of hunger, grabbing onto the tiny openings of your windowless castle and prying it open, asking for news here and there until you've cobbled enough savings to bribe a man to take you if not to mainland teyvat, then at least ritou where less people will know who you are.

the bright crack of dawn comes: you sneak out of the estate, surprisingly easy. ayato is asleep thanks to the sleeping draught you'd slipped him last night in his tea, and he doesn't even stir as you remove yourself from his side. you feel the shackles coming off as you tiptoe out of the compound, sandals lifting over the wooden threshold. but then—

"having fun, dear wife?"

you almost slip, catching yourself on the door frame. numbness spreading from your fingertips to your neck, you turn. ayato's standing there, leaning against the wall as he watches you with amused eyes. no trace of anger. just amusement, like a god watching his followers from up on high.

you open your mouth, intending to make your excuses, and almost sob instead. you were so close. so close you'd almost felt it, the sensation of ocean water kissing your fingertips as you sit on that boat, your lovely unborn child beneath your other hand as you'd murmur sweet nothings about how your lives would be nothing but joy.

and now, this. "i know pregnancy boredom is quite unbearable," ayato sighs as he reaches for your shoulders. "but you shouldn't be so mischievous, hm? the shuumatsuban have their hands full as it is, let alone keeping track of my own wife. first that medicine, and now this. you know better than to try to go off on your own. it's not safe."

you shudder as he picks you up, sweeping you up into his arms as he'd done before you'd entered the bridal chamber on your wedding night. left with no avenue but to play obedient, you rest your head against his shoulder and caress your belly while whispering, "i'm sorry. i won't... i won't do it again."

ayato hums. you feel the vibration of it, how it makes a hollow instrument out of your body. "of course you won't. it'll be hard to move with the shackles on your feet, after all."